Falling - Sterek
by alphastiles
Summary: Stiles is Scotts companion, friend and loyal helper. One day, after Stiles completes a detention, Derek asks for Stiles's help. This romantic thriller is sure to feed your teen wolf fan fiction addiction. A good story, with short and easy to read chapters! Finally, a Sterek fanfiction where Stiles has backbone!
1. Chapter 1 - Hunt

The school was nearly empty and Stiles sat alone in the depths of his mystically boring art detention. He tapped his pen in a continuous, rhythmic pattern.

_Tap, click, tap, click._

It was relentless.

_Tap, click, tap, click._

Merciless.

_Tap, click, tap, click._

"Stiles!" the teacher finally succumbed to Stiles annoyance.

"Just pretend like I didn't see you, and go." She sighed.

Stiles grinned, his irritating self gleaming with pride. He scooped his bag over his shoulder and ran out of the door.

Beacon Hills was dark and dreary to Stiles. He was bored. The thought of only having a few friends was almost scary given he was going to college soon and this sudden realisation set Stiles into autopilot. He glided down the path of the schools entrance, deep in thought. And just as quick as he switched into autopilot, Stiles was on the floor. Snapping out of his transient daze, he caught himself firmly so the fall was much lighter than it could have been. Looking up, the sun beaming in his eyes, a musty, unrecognizable face was staring down at him. _Who is that? _

"Stiles."

Oh god, it was Derek.

"Derek." Stiles blurted out in a mild blimp of bravery. Derek was almost taken a back when Stiles snapped back. There was a brief silence, so Stiles made his way ungracefully off the ground and jumped up on his two feet.

"What do you want Hale? Make it quick, I seriously need to get home." Stiles sighed, knowing he wasn't going to make it home. Derek always got in the way of his plans and it didn't help that he couldn't do anything about it. The last time Stiles tried to divert his attention from Derek, it ended in a heated argument and Stiles never had valid points.

"You need to come with me." Derek said simply.

"Derek. I can't." Stiles scowled, thinking of his father sitting alone around the dinner table.

"The sheriff can wait, Stiles. I'm sure he's got more to worry about than his stray son." Derek said. He began to walk off, gesturing Stiles to follow him.

He whistled, "Come on, boy."

"Hey, I'm not the only stray thing here." Stiles huffed quietly, following in diplomatic form behind him.

Derek didn't even acknowledge the Stiles was following behind him. Stiles thought, just quickly, he could sneak away and Derek wouldn't realise. Not to mention, Stiles was befuddled that they walked straight past Derek's top form sports car and they could have saved all this time by driving to wherever they were going. Stiles stopped walking abruptly and put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm going home, Hale." He muttered, looking down at his sneakers. Derek stopped and looked right at him.

"You're not going anywhere, Stilinski." He growled. "Now keep walking or I'll rip your throat out."

_Literally_.

Stiles knew he was obligated to continue following now, or Derek would most likely eat him alive, involuntarily. Not that anything Stiles did for Derek was voluntarily.

"Derek." Stiles spat.

Derek sauntered up to Stiles and yanked his collar, bringing Stiles' ear to his voice.

"What did I just say?"

Stiles pulled his body away from Derek.

"Fine, Hale. Just please, tell me where we are going?" Stiles sighed deep in the back of his throat. Derek began his walk again, at a repetitive rate. Stiles galloped up to speed beside him and gave him a look as if to enforce the question he just asked.

"You know it's a full moon tonight, moron." Derek chuckled lightly.

"And what's that got to do with me?" Stiles said puzzled, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Erica, Boyd, Isaac and I need your help."

Stiles stopped walking again, Derek soon following his abrupt halt.

"Wait up a minute," Stiles began in an almost offended tone. "I have my own fluffy fur ball to look after, I don't need three more."

Derek smiled sadistically, and with that Stiles knew what was coming.

"I need someone to tie us up, Stiles."

Stiles stood and watched Derek smirk. _Are you serious? _

"Tie yourself up, Hale." Stiles snapped, turning his heel.

"Stiles."

There was a hint of sadness in Derek's voice, almost a need, a desire. Stiles scoffed at him, disregarding the blatant begging of Derek before him.

"Stiles, please."

"Look, Hale. I'm sick of being pushed around by you and your little, wolf friends." Stiles scowled.

"Just this once, okay?" Derek pled, "It'll only take five minutes."

"That's what you said last time!"

"I'm sorry, Stiles. You're the only one I trust."

Stiles was confused. _Trust? _Of all people Derek would trust, he trusted Stiles? He said nothing and walked up to Derek.

"Just this once." He said sternly, his finger raised. Derek looked deep into Stiles eyes, almost as a note of approval.

"Thank you, Stilinski." He smiled.

Derek's house was dark and gloomy. The rotting wood that formed the house was able to be crumbled at the touch. Stiles found himself frightened, realizing that he was with the Alpha that had once implemented pain onto him and his father. Let alone the fact he was about to walk into a house infested with the spineless dogs, one of whom used to capture Stiles Stilinski's heart. Erica used to be a fragile teenager, much like himself, but once Derek got to her, she turned into the most hideous of beings. It almost disgusted Stiles.

Stiles writhed in the spot, noticing that Derek had opened the door to the house, releasing broken spiderwebs.

The floorboards leading up the stairs to the basement creaked in a loud and dangerous fashion.

"I am not going to die in here." Stiles repeated to himself in a slow but sure chant. He heard Derek chuckle in front of him as he did so.

Derek's hand directed Stiles downstairs to the basement, of which smelt of rotten meat and overuse of deodorant. Stiles made his way one step at a time down the stairs, watching his feet as it proceeded to get darker and darker with each step forward.

"Erica?" Derek muttered and he turned on the light. Sure enough, standing at the base of the stairs was Erica, looking tired and worn.

"There you are. And, why is _he_ here?" she scowled, her eyes piercing Stiles's own. That hurt Stiles. _That?_ She once felt the same as Stiles did for her, but the bite made her a huntress, and one that would not settle for love or lust. In a matter of fact, any relationship that involved a relationship. Derek walked firmly up to Erica and provided her face with a stern slap.

"Don't talk to Stiles like that." He spat, pushing her out of the way so Stiles could follow Derek further into the basement.

Erica's face was one of disgust, but also one of pleasure. Stiles often saw Erica as a masochist, and Derek a sadist. It was very possible in Stiles's thoughts for this to be true, but maybe Erica was screwed up and Derek was just violent.

"Boyd, wake up." Derek said, shaking a relaxed, dark skinned man of whom lay solemnly on the floor. Boyd bolted upright in a matter of seconds, instantly facing his leader.

"Sorry, Hale" he mumbled, regaining the strength to stand to his feet. Stiles watched Boyd as he brushed the dust off of his tank, Boyd's fingers gliding over his top.

_Snap out of it, Stiles._


	2. Chapter 2 - Falling

Stiles felt a strange and overwhelming feeling of lust fall upon his body as he gazed at Boyd. He had never looked at a man in such a way before. Yes, Stiles was always the one to crack a wise joke about his impending homosexuality, but he always knew somewhere deep inside of himself, those jokes could most likely be viewed as true. Stiles always made jokes about it so he didn't have to confront his inner self. His inner self scared him.

"Stiles?" Derek stood directly in front of Stilinski's gaze, breaking his attention immediately and bringing it back to Derek.

"Huh?"

"You looked...distracted." Derek almost whimpered the word _distracted_, as if Stiles wasn't meant to be.

"Where's Isaac?" Derek instantly became himself again, a strong and defiant alpha.

Erica pointed further into the impending darkness of the basement, revealing two beady, blue eyes.

"We had to tie him up. The moon seems to already be getting to him." Boyd said, gathering what seemed to be chains from underneath a heap of unused metal. Derek looked confused.

"Already?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago he attacked Erica." Boyd pointed to Erica's now obviously ripped shirt but healed wound.

"Stupid mutt." Erica spat. Boyd had now successfully placed the chains into the middle of the four of them, creating another prolonged gaze from Stiles.

"Okay. Stiles and I will tie you up over there, Boyd, and Erica, you'll be tied on the pole." Derek directed, using his hand as a point.

Stiles then wandered over to the chains as Boyd and Erica placed themselves in their told positions. He tried to lift them, struggling at first then he suddenly felt his arms become stronger. As this happened, he realised Derek's arms were beneath his, holding his biceps in a tantalizing and curious way.

"They can't see us." Derek whispered into Stiles's ear, his words slithering and conniving. Stiles froze, his body shutting down with embarrassment.

"What are you doing, Hale?" Stiles said, shrugging Derek's arms from his. "Just help me do this."

Derek back off, almost as if he was in heartbreak.


	3. Chapter 3 - Pain

Derek Hale was not used to being rejected. His masculine allure often swooned those he touched. But no, not Stiles Stilinski. Derek shouldered past Stiles, easily picking up the heap of chains and splitting the lot into two; one lot for Boyd, the other for Erica.

Stiles peered over to Erica, who was scuffing her feet along the ground to push herself against the wall. She looked as though in searing pain.

"Hale, we have to hurry." Stiles said, still embarrassed from Derek's attempts before. Derek had attempted things on Stiles a few times, but Stiles had to fight the urge to succumb to Derek's efforts.

Derek rushed to Erica's aid, Stiles close behind. They both walked in immaculately clean circles around her, pulling tightly on the chains. Derek then began on Boyd, pulling tighter on him, knowing he was stronger than Erica in so many ways.

"Now me." Derek panted, tired from his efforts. Stiles knew that he need not worry about tying Derek up, but if it kept Derek of his case, then he was glad to do it.

Derek trailed further into the basement with Stiles, holding the spare chains loosely over his shoulder. He found a nice spot, hidden from the view of the others behind a large, rotting pillar. He then dropped the chains to the floor and gazed at Stiles.

"Here is just perfect." he smirked.

Stiles once again froze. _That smirk. _Derek knew he did things to Stiles, whether Stiles wanted to admit it or not. Derek walked closer to Stiles, creating heated proximity.

"Come on, Stiles. Tie. Me. Up." Derek pushed himself against the wall.

Stiles ignored the tantalizing tone in Derek's voice and knew it was the right thing to divert from the situation. Stiles lifted the chains, struggling a bit, but eventually got into a rhythmic pace of tying Derek up, all the while listening to Derek laugh an evil cackle.

"You can't resist me forever, Stilinski."

Stiles continued to ignore him, not delaying his rhythmic pace.

Once done, he took a step back to admire at his masterpiece. The chains were in a clean layer around Derek's panting body.

"Stiles." Derek's voice was mellow and quiet.

"Derek, stop this. You know, I can't do this. I have to look after Scott. He'd kill me if I was fornicating with the enemy." Stiles whimpered.

Derek's face was one of shock. Stiles was not one to show his true emotion, especially if it came to expressing it to Derek.

"Stiles, I didn't mean to. I just want you. So bad. Ever since that night that I was watching you on the rink with Lydia, watching how you looked after her, cared for her. I _knew _I needed you. Nobody cares for me, Stiles. Nobody cares for me like you do. You are always there for me. I just _need_ you." Derek spoke in desperation, his body trying to break free from the chains.

Stiles began to tear up, his eyes swelling.

"You're never there for me, Derek! Not when I needed you most!" Stiles sobbed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Derek longed to release himself from the chains and wipe the tears Stiles cried away himself. But he couldn't.

"You are _never_ going to be there for me, Derek." Stiles began to regain composure, "You only think about yourself. The Kanima is gone, there is nothing to worry about anymore. Yet all you do is frolic around with your asshole fluff balls."

"Stiles, untie me pl-"

"Just shut up, Derek."

There was a silence, filled with the airiness of the night and gloom that surrounded the two.

"Stiles, untie me."

Stiles walked backwards, staring at Derek with an empty expression. His back now pressed against the wall and he slid down to his knees.

He sat there, his face in his arms. Erica began to scream and the full moon's glare washed itself upon the floor.


	4. Chapter 4 - Rejected

Derek looked at the floor, watching the slow movement of the shadows dancing on it. The clouds were moving at a steady pace, passing the moon and its ghostly mask.

Erica's screams filled the room once more and Stiles began to find himself crying. He tried to appear manly, but in such circumstances as the one he was in, being manly was the last thing Stiles was worried about. Erica had his heart at one point in time. She was once lovely and kind, shy and perfect. But Derek had stripped her of her innocence, teasing and enticing with burdens of higher purpose. Stiles remembered that she once said her 'gift' was the only thing that made her feel special. Stiles found that comment somewhat discouraging, as his efforts of complimenting her to make her feel special must not have been good enough for her. Stiles never felt good enough.

"Stiles, listen to me."

Stiles thoughts were broken by the low hum of Derek's voice. Yet, Stiles did not reveal his face from between his legs, he merely ran his fingers ever so slightly through his fine hair.

"Stiles, I can change."

Stiles shook his head and commenced a sarcastic laugh, mocking Derek's attempts to suade him. Derek needed to get out of the chains, he wanted to hold Stiles now trembling body and whisper kind words into his ear. He wanted nothing more but to rid himself of the terrible curse of lycanthropy, and be normal with Stiles; maybe buy a house together, wed him, take him walking on the hillsides of Beacon Hills (or some such place). But he couldn't, and this made Derek feel like a disappointment.

Stiles tried to bring about composure in himself. He stopped crying, and released his weary head from between his legs. He pushed himself back against the wall and used his back to slither up it to his feet. And then his eyes directly met Derek's, in a crude and awkward manner, as if this gaze was accidentally caught.

"I have to go." Stiles said, backbone in his voice.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do. Unlike others around here, I actually have people caring about me right now." Stiles spat.

"So goodnight, and I hope all goes will with you and your...friends." He added, his tone more light and sincere but slightly sarcastic.

Stiles turned, hearing the deep and mournful sigh of Derek behind him, and began to slowly walk out of the basement. He passed Isaac first, chained to a chair, who was making no sound and seemed to have himself under control, whereas Boyd and Erica were scuffling and moaning in pain.

Stiles stopped at the edge of the stairs and looked back towards Derek. His head was hung low, and he seemed to be crying. This did not detour Stiles. He knew he had to stand up for himself for a change. And if that meant hurting Derek (of whom he now liked), then so be it.

* * *

Stiles arrived home, his phone displaying the dreaded numbers of midnight. The Sheriff was not going to be impressed with his son, and Stiles knew this.

The light appeared to be on in Stiles's living room.

"Oh god." Stiles muttered, feeling the tension already as he arrived at his front door. He thought for a moment of some sort of excuse to provide with his lateness, but the usual ones of "Oh, I was at Scott's studying" and "Lydia was helping me with homework" were not useful, especially with his terrible grades at school. Just as Stiles was fishing around in his pocket for his house keys, the door swung open with a distraught and tired Sheriff, still wearing his uniform.

"Where have you been son?" he sighed.

Stiles said nothing, as he could not think of a response. Instead, Stiles walking past his father and sat down at the dining room table.

"Son, I think we need to talk."

"I know dad," Stiles began, "I know."

"I don't think you do." The Sheriff's tone began to become harsh and defensive.

"You don't think I haven't realised that you are constantly home late? Midnight, or about then, is the time you come home. Every night. For the past two months, Stiles."

"Dad, I-"

"Don't give me excuses, Stiles! I am the Sheriff of this town, and how do you think it looks if my son runs around town at all hours of the night like a stray? It looks bad, Stiles, really damn bad. Where the hell do you go? I sure know it's not McCalls."

Stiles noticed how distressed his father looked, but Stiles could provide no answer.

"I don't even feel like you exist sometimes. Sure, I love you, but sometimes it feels like you died along with your mother."

"Don't you dare say that." Stiles said, remaining composed.

"Well, it's true."

Stiles began to smell the liquor on his fathers breathe, and knew that the bourbon, or whiskey, was making him say this. But Stiles knew from the past that the truth comes out when his father has been drinking.

"Dad, please go to bed." Stiles sighed.

"No."

"You need to go and sleep the liquor off."

"I have only had one. Or two."

There were six glasses on the counter top. Stiles knew his father didn't like washing and reusing the same cups, and often used a new glass for each drink.

"Dad."

"Stiles, I think you should move out."

"I am only 16, dad." Stiles scoffed, thinking his father was joking.

"Actually. I have a better idea."

Before telling Stiles of his great idea, his father stumbled over to the cupboard above the sink and took out a new, clean whiskey tumbler. He then proceeded to walk to the refrigerator and revealed the whiskey. _Whiskey, in the fridge? _

As the Sheriff poured, he began his proposition;

"Spend a few days with Scott. At his house. Or with someone. I don't care. I just need to have some space son. I love you, and don't you forget that, but by the time I come back from work tomorrow I want you out of this house for a week."

Stiles rested his head on the table, knowing that his fathers liquored-up talk was right. They needed space, from each other.


	5. Chapter 5 - Tension

The morning was cool and crisp, and Stiles awoke when the front door of his house closed at its usual time of 6:30 a.m. The Sheriff had gone to work, and Stiles lay strewn out upon his bed and his duvet was tossed on the floor. He sprawled himself on the bed for a moment, and lay staring at his white and plain ceiling. Today was the day that Stiles needed to find a place to stay for the next week. He instinctively thought of Scott, and reached over to his night stand and grabbed his phone.

"Yo Stiles." Scott's voice was cheery and brought a certain happiness to Stiles.

"Hey, I know its break and all, but any chance I could bail at yours for a week?" Stiles said.

There was a prolonged silence and a deep sigh at Scott's end.

"Stiles did you forget? I'm away in Wisconsin with mom this week to see her dad. Sorry, man."

Stiles reciprocated the sigh.

"That's fine man, I'll find someone. Dads booted me out for a week."

"Why?"

"Long story. Thanks anyway."

And Stiles hung up. He thought of people he could stay with. Lydia? Jackson? Danny? None of them would take him, he knew that. Only one name came to his head, but he refused to admit his subconscious had come to the conclusion of asking Derek Hale for assistance.

_Derek. Derek would take me. He would. But I can't._

Stiles got out of his bed in a slow and paced manner and began to pack a small backpack with clothes and his laptop. He had noticed he slept in his jeans and singlet from the night before, but felt so lethargic that he didn't want to change or shower. The dusk sunlight poured through the blinds in Stiles room, providing some sort of life to him. He himself was so lifeless, as was the room he inhabited so the sunlight was refreshing. He then started to think about this much needed space his father wanted from Stiles and how it might also benefit him greatly.

His thoughts were foggy, as the feeling of exhaustion fell upon him. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and left a note on the countertop in the kitchen saying nothing but '_I am sorry' _and then Stiles walked out of the house at 7:13 on this cool and crisp morning.

* * *

Stiles walked along the footpath, heading towards an unknown destination. He was hoping maybe he would walk far enough that a week would pass by and he could go home to his father. Stiles once again fell deep in thought, not thinking about anything in particular, just about the gravel on the path and the tread of tires passing by. His mind was wandering and he didn't mind this, Stiles liked to think of meaningless things. It often distracted him from thinking of people and troubles he had encountered. And just as Stiles Stilinski was deep in thought, a large and sleek black Camaro drove slowly next him, its tinted windows steadily rolling down to reveal Derek Hale's pale and gloomy face.

"Stiles?"

Stiles looked up and broke out of his wandering thought. He looked towards the car and glumly looked at Derek, but continued walking.

"Why are you out this early?" Derek asked.

"I could ask you the same thing." Stiles replied, scoffing at Derek's ignorance of the night before.

Derek sighed, still mirroring Stiles walking with his car.

"Just tell me, Stiles."

"My father kicked me out." Stiles stopped abruptly, Derek soon stopping his car in following.

"I'm sorry. Are you on your way to Scott's?" Derek leaned further out of the window, as if he couldn't hear Stiles.

"No, actually. Scott is in Wisconsin, with his mother. I don't know where I am going." Stiles laughed nervously.

After a long pause, Derek smiled and tapped the side of his car.

"Come to mine."

Stiles wanted to say yes, with all of his soul and mind, but he knew he couldn't. He knew that if he said yes, he wouldn't regret it, but most likely enjoy it, which was a bad thing.

"You don't even have to talk to me. I will just provide a bed and food. You won't even know I am there." Derek added in desperation. _You don't even have to talk to me. _This seemed like a good proposition.

"Okay, Derek." Stiles said, forcing a small smile, then walked over to Derek's car.

* * *

The car ride was not bad, nor good. Stiles found it a bit awkward though. Derek seemed to want to say something, opening his mouth as if about to speak but then abruptly shutting it. Stiles found himself wanting Derek to talk, just to break the tension, but neither one of them dared to break the anxiety in the air.


	6. Chapter 6 - Nightmares

Stiles never really like the look of Derek's house. Or at least what was left of it. The tragic fire that burnt down the Hale residence didn't really phase Stiles. He felt no sympathy for Derek. He felt like the Hale's deserved it.

Derek lent against the bonnet of the car, carelessly dipping the metal with his muscly presence atop it. He retrieved a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lit it.

"You smoke?" Stiles said, almost in disgust.

"I'm stressed." Derek chuckled through a closed lips, holding the cigarette in his mouth whilst attempting to light it.

"You know, there are other things you could do. Like yoga or calisthenics. Scott's mom does that."

"Do I look like Scott's mom?"

Derek inhaled deeply, waiting a few seconds before releasing the pungent stench of ash from between his lips.

"I'd be worried if you did." Stiles smiled. Stiles then went to the side of the car, pulled his bags from the back seat, then commenced a light walk towards the house. The front door was marked with an odd inky substance The mark formed a strange, sharp edged shape, but Stiles took no notice of it. Derek knew it was the Alpha Triskelion. It was a warning.

Stiles found himself standing in a dirty, moldy house. Once, it could have been greatness. The Tiffany fixtures and stain glass windows could be restored, but Stiles knew that Derek had not time to play housewife. Derek appeared in the door way beside him; the kitchen perhaps.

"You'll be upstairs. And about the other night. I feel like I crossed-"

"Don't worry about it Derek." Stiles abruptly butted in, delaying the tension Derek's coming sentence would have brought him.

"Let's just get through this week." He then added.

Stiles wandered up the stairs, feeling as though he was going to fall through them at any point. The stairs were beyond breaking point but they all seemed to be staying in perfect position. As he reached the top, two long hallways stretched out either side of him. To his left, burnt and charred pillars created a dank and airy atmosphere. To his right, the hallway looked magnificent. By magnificent, Stiles meant bearable. It looked like achievable living standards for a week. Stiles felt himself being followed by Derek down the hallway.

"To the right." Derek said, and Stiles turned quickly into a small, red room, with a single bed and plain creme sheets. It wasn't a bad room, for the look of the rest of the house. Stiles expected the room to be a wardrobe sized one, with a matress on the floor and a few spiders on the ceiling. But all in all, this room was tidy and clean, almost as though Derek expected Stiles's arrival.

"Is it okay?" Derek spoke softly, standing nervously by the doorway. Stiles threw his bags on the floor.

"It's better than I expected." Stiles smiled, turning to face Derek.

"Than expected? And what were you expecting?"

"I don't know. A wardrobe. Maybe a few cauldrons and some incense."

Derek looked confused.

"I think you have mistaken me for a witch." He eventually said, grinning.

"Now if you don't mind, Derek, I'd like some privacy." Stiles said.

"Okay." Derek muttered, looking distracted by something in the hall.

"I think it is best if you stay in here for the rest of the day, Stiles." he added.

Stiles was confused. He offers him a room, then expects him to stay in it all day? But Stiles did not question Derek's thinking, knowing a heated argument would most likely follow if he dare.

* * *

Stiles attempted to go on the internet, but soon realized the Derek still lived in the stone ages and slammed his laptop shut.

_What to do?_

Stiles lay back on his bed, his feet slightly hanging off the end. Stiles knew he wasn't tall, so this was awfully odd. Then he came to the conclusion that one of the old Hale kids must have slept on there. He kind of had a fantasy that he was lying on child Derek's bed. Little Derek's bed.

Hours past and Stiles found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Stiles awoke to the sudden rumble of lighting and rain hitting the roof.

He bolted upright, examining the room and saw it was now dark. He must have slept right through the day. Stiles swung his legs off the bed to the ground and stood up. He sleepily walked out of the room and looked down the hall. No sign of life.

Stiles heard a deep pant, and walked further down the hall to where he guessed Derek's room was. Stiles heard continual deep breathing from behind a door. It sounded odd. He pressed his ear against the door and listened.

"Ugh."

It sounded like Derek was hurt, so without thinking, Stiles burst into the room.

"Oh my god. Derek." Stiles rushed to the bedside where Derek was lying.

Derek looked like he had been crying, as his eyes were swollen and dry. There was blood all over Derek's shirt and he wrestled around and fought with his clothing. Stiles then realised Derek was asleep, having a nightmare.

"Derek. Derek." Stiles ran his finger down Derek's face, begging him to calm.

"Stiles. I can't. Don't bite Stiles. No." he spoke softly in his sleep, distressed and sad.

"No one's going to bite me, Derek."


	7. Chapter 7 - Lust

Derek tossed and turned violently, with Stiles sitting next to his bed in a frantic notion.

"Derek. Derek, wake up." Stiles mumbled, seeing the distress Derek was in over this nightmare he was stuck in. Stiles had never saw Derek in a more vulnerable and strange way.

He finally stopped moving in his bed and his eyelids fluttered open in an erratic gaze.

"Stiles. I don't want you to get hurt." Derek muttered in a sleepy daze.

Stiles smiled warmly, and rested his head on the side of the bed. Derek cautiously ran his fingers through Stiles' hair, and Stiles did not refuse his touch. After a short and blissful silence, the quiet atmosphere was broken as Derek's hand fell gracefully back onto the bed.

"Why do you always pay attention to me when there is nobody around?" Stiles said.

"I have an obligation to look strong. Strong and straight. I can't do anything with you in front of people." Derek sighed, pulling himself up to sitting position.

"So, you don't want to be seen with me, is that it?" Stiles replied, feeling offended.

"No. Of course I do, I just can't."

"You are ashamed."

"I guess I must be." Derek spat.

Stiles rose to his feet and commenced a heated walk to the door before turning around to face Derek.

"This was all a big mistake. I should have just stayed in my room." he said, giving Derek an unruly stare.

"Stiles, just. Just come back here." Derek spoke firmly. Stiles stood frozen in the door way. He was stuck. Not physically, nor mentally. But emotionally. The feelings that Stiles kept hidden from everyone around him were overflowing inside of him. Stiles liked Derek. He really did. But he was torn. Torn between hurt and love. Leaving or staying would bring him both. Without realising, Derek had risen from the bed and now was standing behind Stiles in a protective manner. Stiles did not want to turn around. He feared the feelings, the urges, would consume him and make him fall into Derek's arms. Stiles saw Derek's shirt in his peripherals and saw the blood that lurked upon the white fabric. Stiles did not want to ask.

"Stiles." Derek spoke softly, attempting to lure Stiles in with a graceful touch on his lower back. Stiles felt Derek's warm hand against his shirt. He shut his eyes, for just a moment, to soak in the feeling of pure lust for Derek and his caress.

"Derek. I can't do this." Stiles sighed. Derek walked in front of Stiles, now gazing ever so intently into Stiles' eyes.

"You can do anything you want to." Derek said.

Derek did not break eye contact with Stiles. It felt like hours. The intensity of such a small gaze made Stiles weak.

"I want you." Stiles spoke. And just as quickly as those words slipped from his lips, Derek thrusted his hips against Stiles, pushing him against the wall.

"Do you really want me?" Derek spoke in a husky tone, holding Stiles against the wall.

"Yes."

Derek parted his lips slightly, breathing heavily and staring at nothing but Stiles' eyes. He lent in towards Stiles. Releasing himself to the soft strength of Derek's kiss, Stiles found himself wrapped up in Derek and reciprocating the kiss presented to him. Derek engulfed every part of Stiles, moving gracefully around his tongue and body. He glided his hands through Stiles' hair and Stiles found himself caressing Derek's arms.

Derek ran his fingers through the innards of Stiles' jeans before Stiles glided Derek's bloody shirt off of his body. Stiles admired the hard work put into creating such a fine figure. He drifted his fingers over the dips and curves of Derek's stomach, feeling the urge pulsate through his body. Stiles then took his shirt off and reconnected the kiss. It was in-depth and loving, not forced or unwanted. Once more, Derek found his fingers running through the seams of Stiles' pants.

The spark that once connected them was now a burning fire, engulfing the two in its midst. It was magically insane.

* * *

(_WARNING: next chapter will involve sexual intercourse between two males. teehee. Will update between 1-4 days. Sorry for the inconvenience. I have been busy. Thank you all for your views and reviews! Watch this space for more!) _


	8. Chapter 8 - Forests

Stiles reveled in Derek's eyes as he was continuously pelted with passionate kisses, fueling the fire that was them.

"Take them off." Stiles grunted through clenched teeth. Derek was more than happy to abide and, whilst groping the apex of Stiles' thighs, he rolled the jeans off of his lanky legs. Stiles was now in his briefs, and nothing more. Derek was now extremely turned on and felt himself growing in masculinity and power. Let alone, the thing inside his pants was also growing at a rapid pace.

"Oh, Derek." Stiles groaned, Derek pushing Stiles harder against the wall.

"I can smell you." Derek whispers, peppering kisses all over Stiles' neck.

"I can smell how ready you are for me."

For a second, Stiles feels embarrassed. But he is too caught up in the moment. Too caught up to care that he _is _ready.

"Are you ready for me?" Derek questions cautiously, as if he needed to get permission from Stiles.

_As if._

_As if he need permission right now, with Stiles against the wall. _

Stiles was almost not touching the ground now, Derek had pushed him so far up the wall with his pelvis. The sheer force of Derek's embrace was a welcomed pain, with the bonus the two's erections brush over each other. With every small thrust Derek inflicted onto Stiles' dick, Stiles arched off the wall to meet it. In a slow and rhythmic pace. _Magical._

"What do you think?" Stiles moaned as he felt Derek's tongue lick over his pecs.

Derek chuckled, hearing the missed Stiles Sarcasm he hadn't heard in a while.

He lifted Stiles and felt two legs wrap firmly around his stomach as he led Stiles over to the bed.

Stiles never felt so needed. He could feel the frightening amount of need that Derek had for Stiles, in this infinite moment. He didn't want this moment to be over. He never wanted it to end. He never felt so worthy.

"You smell good." Derek huffed as he threw Stiles onto the bed, himself toppling on top.

"Fuck." Stiles said as he felt himself grow. Derek started kissing Stiles' navel, and at a slow and intolerable pace, Derek trailed his tongue up until it met with Stiles' nipple. With the felt friction of Derek's tongue and Stiles' nipple, Stiles let out a loud moan. The moan was enough to set Derek off and he sweetly, yet violently, sucked on Stiles' nipple, which instantly arched. Derek groped Stiles, _there._

_There._

_There._

He rubbed his hand crazily over Stiles' cock, feeling the small amount of pre come elude from his briefs.

"I'm glad I'm your first, baby."

_How does he know?_ Stiles flushed a bright red.

"Don't tense now," Derek says, "It's just, I can tell."

Stiles pretends like he doesn't hear Derek say this. But he instantly forgets as he feels Derek's hand slide into his briefs.

"Oh...fuck." Stiles groans. Derek continues his torturous tongue licking.

"You are _so_ ready." Stiles feels Derek grin against his nipple.

In a smooth and easy motion, Derek rolled Stiles over and began undoing his pants.

Springing free was Derek's erected cock. He slid Stiles' briefs over his ass.

"That's a nice little ass you got there, Stilinski." Derek chuckled.

With that, Stiles felt the tip of Derek's penis brush ever-so-lightly over his cheeks. Derek eased his way inside of Stiles, hearing, at first, small and insignificant moans, but as the pace of Derek's thrusting started hastening, Stiles' yells became louder.

Screaming with thrill.

Happiness.

Need.

_Love?_

* * *

This is exactly how Stiles pictured waking up. In someone's arms. Spooning. Feeling so tired it felt good. No sleep could cure such exhaustion, but Stiles did not want this exhaustion to be over. It made him feel used in such a beautiful way.

The absolute strength of Derek's arms around Stiles was warm. It was protective. As if Derek was saying _'you're mine, no one else can have you'_ and Stiles never felt so...so alive.

Derek's eyelids fluttered open, and he kissed Stiles' shoulders. Stiles gracefully turned around so they were now facing each other, their gaze connected, and ever so electrifying. Derek's arms did not release Stiles. Stiles was his.

"You know," Derek began in soft tone, "You have the most beautiful eyes."

Stiles only smiled, his eyes sleepy.

"_You_ are so beautiful."

"Oh shut up, you." Stiles smiled.

"I want you to be mine. Forever."

Stiles was to tired to hear the intended hint in Derek's voice.

Derek lent in and kissed Stiles so sweetly. Stiles then realised how soft Derek's lips were. As soft as kissing a peach and feeling the hairs of the fruit brush on your lips.

This kiss was like none other that Derek had experienced before, either. Sure, he has had his fair share of ladies in his past. But none other amounted to the charm and beauty of Stiles' kiss. Losing himself in Stiles' lips was like getting lost in a forest; as much as he wanted to get out of it, he couldn't. The fascination of the forest kept him dwelling. He couldn't leave; nor did he want to. Why would he ever want to leave?

The forest was a place of rest.

Stiles' lips were a place of rest.

"You deserve every tiny bit of happiness, Stiles Stilinski. You needn't think so lowly of yourself," Derek began, running the face of his thumb on Stiles' lower lip, "You can be happy with me forever. I will treat you right. I will always stand by you. I will protect you. I promise you this."

Stiles said nothing, but Derek found himself feeling a light quiver of Stiles' lip under his thumb.

And with one final kiss, they both lay in each others arms until the mid afternoon sunlight grazed their skin.


	9. Chapter 9 - Eligendo

_Typical._

Stiles woke alone. The tranquility he experienced now broken by a cold side and no warm embrace. Stiles couldn't say he was surprised, he just persumed he would at least get a goodbye from Derek. Maybe a kiss on the forehead. Anything cheesy did Stiles well.

With a long stretch, Stiles pulled himself hesitantly from the bed, not wanting to leave the safe haven of the sheets. Stiles felt awfully alone with no one in the room with him. The room was dark for this time of the afternoon, and whilst passing the window on the way to the door, Stiles caught a glimpse of the aphotic clouds rolling in. It smelt of rain all through the house. You know, that smell you get when it is just about to rain? That is what Stiles smelt all the way down the hallway.

_Rain. Derek. Derek. Rain. Derek. Where is Derek? Rain._

Just as Stiles reached the dreaded staircase, he heard the fine pattering of rain on the roof. It was soft at first but eventually started gaining strength as Stiles made his way down the stairs. The bottom floor was empty and quiet. The airiness of the floor made Stiles feel uneasy. He stood at the base of the stairs, peering in the visible areas.

"Derek?" he called.

His voice bounced off the wall. Stiles wandered from the edge of the staircase, feeling his bare feet on the dying, wood floors. There didn't seem to be anyone home, let alone around the land the house was awkwardly placed on. But as soon as he felt this, a loud bang erupted from outside. Instinctively, Stiles ran outside, almost losing himself in the vastness of the halls.

"Derek? Derek!"

By the trees in the distance, Stiles spotted a hooded, male figure. Stiles did not dare to move towards the figure, not knowing if it was Derek or not. The amount of warnings Stiles had received from not only Derek but Scott about the Alpha pack had scared him enough to be weak and hide away. Suddenly, a hand grasped around Stiles mouth.

"Sh. Sh. Sh."

Stiles couldn't make out if it was Derek violently shushing and grabbing him or somebody else. Stiles squirmed for a moment, but then realised it was Derek.

"D-Derek?" Stiles blurted out between Derek's caged hand.

"Shh, Stiles."

"What's going on?"

"That's an Alpha."

Stiles precipitously stopped all sign of his movement. Quietly, Derek moved backwards, dragging Stiles back with him gently. Once in the house, Derek turned around and faced Stiles.

"Stiles, you must not leave this house." Derek said, looking frantic.

"Why, it's not going to stop him...or it?" Stiles said.

"Ms. Morell put a shield around the house. We should be safe until they figure it out. I need to protect you, Stiles."

"Why me? They don't want me, they want you, Boyd, Erica and Scott and Isaac. Not me. I'm a weak human." Stiles laughed nervously.

Stiles then realised, after looking into Derek's eyes and feeling the hints, that the Alpha _was_ looking for Stiles.

"What?" Stiles grumbled.

"Look, I should have told you. I am an idiot, Stiles. You deserve better." Derek sighed.

"Told me what?" Stiles was starting to get worried.

"Every year, around now, us Alphas go onto this thing called Eligendo and-"

"What does that mean?" Stiles butted in.

"It means 'The Choosing'."

Stiles did not interrupt and gave a nod as if to ask him to continue.

"Every year, the Alphas have Eligendo. They choose once person to mate with..." Derek trailed off nervously.

Stiles was starting to piece together himself what Derek was saying.

"And they think you chose me? They don't want you 'mating'?"

"I _did _choose you. And not with a human."

Stiles took a step away from Derek in disbelief. Derek tried to fill the now seemingly large distance between them by replacing the step back with his own step forward. But once again Stiles took a step back.

"And...you didn't think to tell me?" Stiles spat back.

Derek said nothing.

"Hate me all you want. Yell at me. Hit me. I don't care. I would rather you be angry at me and be alive. You must stay in this house until I can kill whoever it is or find you somewhere safe to hide until I can." Derek took another step forward, knowing Stiles was unable to take another back because of the wall.

Derek placed his hands around Stiles' cheeks and kissed his forehead.

"I am so sorry."


	10. Chapter 10 - Lines

It all seemed to happen so quickly to Stiles. One moment, he had been have the most erotic sexual experience with Derek and now he was being told he was being hunted. This is why Stiles was hesitant to get into a sexual relationship with Derek. He had so much baggage it scared Stiles.

Derek stood before Stiles, in a twitchy and awkward way.

"Look, Derek. Just. I d-"

"Stiles please don't leave. I only just got you and you can't leave. Please don't leave." Derek interrupted in a quick and nervous pace.

"Derek I won't leave. Just be honest next time okay. I don't care that I am your mate or whatever. The only thing I am mad about is the fact I can't protect myself. I hate it when you stand up for me."

"Why?"

"You're so controlling, Derek. And you know it."

Derek laughed. Stiles found Derek's laugh contagious and started laughing too.

Derek had never found himself so happy then in the last day. He had never felt like this. He had been so secluded his whole life. He had no family left and he felt alone. Derek often pushed away those he loved the most. But he couldn't find it in himself to push away Stiles. Not after everything Stiles had done for him and Scott. Stiles was the only thing that made Derek feel something.

"Sometimes...I wish I was like you and..." Stiles trailed off, halting the laughter the two shared.

"You don't want to be like us, babe."

"Why wouldn't I..._babe._"

"Ah, there's good old sarcastic Stiles." Derek smiled.

"I would want to protect you like you protect me. I am sick and tired of being the damsel in distress. I want to fight those alphas and hunters." Stiles sighed.

"All in good time, Stiles."

Stiles wanted to fight more, but Derek's calm nature was making it hard for Stiles to urge a reaction. Stiles loved the reaction.

Stiles walked forward and gazed deeply into Derek's eyes, smiling with joy.

"You were that piece." Derek whispered, the low decibels of his voice only audible to Stiles. They were that close.

"Sorry?"

"There was always something missing, Stiles. Ever since my family died, I had nobody to talk to. But I have you, to talk to, to hold, to...have. You are mine."

_Have. Mine._

There was something about the possession Derek had in his voice. Almost like Derek owned Stiles. And for some strange reason, this pleased Stiles.

"And forever I shall be yours."

Derek ended the conversation abruptly by kissing Stiles, their lips gently but erotically touching and devouring.

Releasing the kiss, Stiles and Derek just stood for a while. Doing nothing, just kind of staring at each other in lust, love, joy, happiness and some such things. They both did not feel the need to say anything or do anything. They didn't need to touch or kiss, just the strength of their gaze was enough to make them feel intimate and together.

After a while Stiles mumbled something.

"So, does this mean I am your boyfriend now?"

Derek looked down on Stiles and grinned.

"I suppose it does."

"Well, being your boyfriend, I think I have the right to know if there is anything I can do to help you kill the alpha or alphas hunting me."

Derek sighed.

"Stiles, seriously."

"I just want to know."

"Now you're just being pushy."

"And you're just being controlling."

Derek rolled his eyes and placed his hands on Stiles' shoulders.

"Stiles Stilinski, hear me now. Stay in the house. I have to go out and consult with Peter."

Stiles knew that even though his exterior maybe be saying he will stay in the house, there was no way he would. Stiles wanted to help.

"Fine."

"Please, Stiles. Please just stay in the house."

Stiles nodded. Derek once again kissed the temple of Stiles' head and commenced a staunch walk out of the house. Stiles watched from the window, making sure that Derek disappeared from plain sight before he made his way towards the door.

At first, Stiles just opened the aperture, and let the sunlight leak through the trees onto the deck in front of his. He peered through the branches, in search of finding the source of the light. But it all just seemed to be one blur. Hi eyes were still trying to readjust to the brightness after being inside for such a long time. He stepped forward. The line in which had been created as a shield around the house was visible now, the sun enlivening the rich black powder like glitter.

He contemplated for a moment.

_Should I? Shouldn't I?_

__And after a small debate with himself, he stood over the line.


	11. Chapter 11 - Peter

Stiles instantly knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't help it. The man Stiles had shared himself with was now putting his life on the line for him, and this made Stiles uneasy. Plus, Stiles liked being told off by Derek. He kind of had the fantasy of sharing make-up sex with Derek.

The inner conflict Stiles was having with himself made him zone out for a moment. He had not realised that simultaneously he was thinking and walking further forward, thus leading him farther away from the house. He started to realise what he was doing but ignored it, simply pretending he hadn't noticed the motion of his feet moving slowly forward.

He reached the end of the forest in which Derek's house was in and saw his lovely little blue jeep parked on the road.

_How did that get here?_

Stiles wondered for a while. He didn't drive his car here. Nonetheless, he found his keys in his jean pockets.

_What the hell?_

Stiles questioned no further as when he got further to the car he saw a note slipped into the windshield wiper.

_Guess you wanted your baby. I called Derek last night and he said you were with him. Love, Dad._

Stiles held the note tightly in his hand and read over it a few times, just because he knew his father had wrote it. He missed his dad all of a sudden, but then noticed another note that had been directly underneath it.

_Stiles. I told you to stay in the fucking house._

Stiles kinda smiled for a moment, noticing the colourful language and post-kindergarten scribbles of Derek's hand writing. He let the note go in the breeze, once again choosing to ignore the warning.

Derek's car was gone. Presumably, he had driven to where he was going and not run around as a big fury monster attracting attention in the daylight.

Stiles was always fond of the smell his car reeked of. A mix of onion rings, Scott, new school books, lacrosse uniform and unfortunately, a little bit of marijuana. He sat in his car briefly, not starting the engine, or adjusting his seat, but merely smelling the familiar smells he loved. He then proceeded to start the engine, remembering that Derek had mentioned something of Peter, Derek's uncle. Peter often dwelled in the mountains above Beacon Hills, so instinctively, Stiles began to drive up there.

Nothing really seemed out of place up in the mountains. No big black sports car or scary wolves running around like lunatics. Stiles drove slowly through the mountains, keeping his eye out for any sign of Derek. All of a sudden, Derek was standing no more than a few feet away from the car and was staring angrily at Stiles. Stiles slammed his foot on the break, jerking himself forward onto the staring wheel and coming to an exasperated halt. They both just stared at each other, the majority of the tension burning from Derek's eyes and the nervous tension exuding from Stiles'. Abruptly, Derek walked around to the side of the car and pulled the drivers door off of it's hinges. Derek pulled Stiles from his seat by his collar and slammed him against the side of the still intact door.

"Eh! What are you doing! That's going to cost..."

"What the fuck are you fucking doing here!" Derek yelled through gritted teeth.

"I could smell you from a fucking mile away. Do you know how dangerous it is for you up here. You fucking idiot."

Stiles sunk down in his shirt, feeling both hurt and ashamed.

Derek released his grip and Stiles dropped back onto his feet.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." Derek said, noticing the hurt look on Stiles' face.

Stiles did not reply.

Derek stepped forward, getting closer to Stiles.

"I didn't mean that. I'm just angry you followed me. I don't want you to get killed."

"I don't want you to get killed either." Stiles whispered, reaching for Derek's hand and holding it. Derek smiled and looked at Stiles.

"Don't worry. I am not going to get-"

"So. What are the two love birds doing up here?" Peter's sarcastic voice laughed from behind Derek.

Derek quickly let go of Stiles' hand.

"Oh, don't be shy Derek, I can smell the gay on you from here."

Derek closed his eyes, as if ashamed of Stiles.

"I though maybe your distant cousin Mark could be gay but you? Wow."

"Shut the fuck up Peter. I'm not with him."

Stiles looked at Derek puzzledly and Derek gave him a _We can't tell him _look.

"Well, from the sound of it...you kinda are. You know, the Eligendo?"

"Fine. Alright. I'm with Stiles."

"Stiles. Nice to meet you. Welcome to the fucked up Hale family. I presume he is one of us, Derek?" Peter said sincerely.

"No."

"No? Then why is he out of the house? Haven't you told him about the Eligendo?"

"I have but-"

"Then why is he out here?" Peter said, his voice expressing a tone of annoyance.

Derek looked at Stiles sadly.

"I followed him."


	12. Chapter 12 - Skin

"You fucking followed him?" Peter spat violently, tethering at Stiles' confession.

"Do you even know what is out here? Derek is a bloody puppy compared to this guy."

Stiles frowned at Peter, knowing he was wrong in following. His heart raced nervously.

"Peter, don't talking to him like that. He was only looking out for me." Derek said finally at Stiles' defense.

Peter looked at Derek, then back at Stiles and then repeated twice over.

"Him? Protect you? Derek, you are still a fool. You haven't changed on bit. He can't protect you. I am surprised you haven't changed him yet."

Stiles shrugged in partial agreement to Peter. He couldn't help, and he should be changed in order to be of some sort of assistance.

"We can't change him. What if he dies?" Derek hissed.

The over-protectiveness of Derek was refreshing. Stiles had never really had anyone ot look out for him, so it was a nice and pleasant change. He flushed.

"Derek. If you don't change Stiles, he is of no use. No use to anybody. Not even to you. The Eligendo alpha will kill him either way. So if you change him, at least he will have some sort of chance." Peter said sternly, intent and reasoning in his voice and eyes.

Derek looked at Stiles and sighed.

"I would have to take him back to the house to do it. Not hear. He's to vulnerable " Derek whispered under his breathe, barely audible Suddenly, Stiles got nervous and fidgety. He didn't think Derek was going to actually turn him.

Derek turned to Stiles and once again picked him up from his collar then placed him back in the car. Derek walked around to the passengers side of the car and hopped in ever so gracefully.

"Drive us home." He sighed. And nervously, Stiles fumbled with the keys that were already in the ignition and turned that car on, and drove.

"Do you really want to do this, Derek?" Stiles murmured, biting his lip. Derek paced in his living room, the floorboards creaking with every step he took.

"No I don't Stiles. But I have too. I shouldn't have slept with you. I shouldn't have. Now I have put you in danger." he said, closing his eyes, still pacing.

"Just do it Derek." Stiles blurted out.

Derek looked over to Stiles and smiled sardonically. He walked over to Stiles and put his mouth to Stiles' ear.

"You know how when I bit Jackson, he ended up turning into the Kanima?"

Stiles nodded.

"You are a good man, Stiles. I think you will be a great wolf for my pack."

Stiles blushed, a manly blush. Derek remained in a seriously mindset and grabbed Stiles' arm and took him upstairs to Derek's bedroom.

It was still as clean and immaculate and it was when Stiles and Derek first had an experience in there.

"Lay on the bed." Derek commands, and Stiles swiftly does so.

"I'm going to change you into one of us now. I'm going to chain you down, as well." Derek mutters, distracted as he fished chain out of his wadrobe on the far side of the room. Quickly and efficiently, Derek chains Stiles to the bedposts.

"Tight enough?" Derek says as if he is hurting Stiles.

"They're fine." Stiles forcibly smiles, his breathe hitched in his lungs. Derek stands still for a moment then gently hops on the bed and climbs on top of Stiles, his thighs either side of Stiles' body.

"Are you sure you want this Stiles?" He whispered. Stiles nods.

Derek bends down slowly over Stiles' shoulder and rests his nose on it.

"This is going to hurt."

"I'll be f-"

Derek sinks his teeth into Stiles shoulder, his sharp incisors penetrating the layers of Stiles' skin. Stiles yelps, tears flooding his eyes and Derek releases. Stiles barely notices the dark red colour of Derek's eyes as the pain knocks him unconscious.


	13. Chapter 13 - Home

Stiles woke softly, his eyes mulling over the decision to open or remain closed. Eventually his eyelids fluttered open in a quick lift and he gazed around the room like a new born baby, exploring the new world in which he was just born into. Everything looked new to Stiles, it was so bright and clean and the room felt energetic. He knew where he was. He knew what had happened. But Stiles new that he, the one inside the heart of the room, was different. But he didn't feel it.

Stiles ran his tongue along his lower lip and felt the dryness of his skin. He must've been out for a few hours or so. He was dehydrated. But that's all he felt; dehydrated. He didn't feel the difference in which he had thought he would feel. He didn't want to kill someone, or eat chicken livers, he just felt dehydrated of all things. It kind of frustrated Stiles. He had prepared himself for something drastic, but nothing.

Belatedly, he decided he needed to get off the bed and satisfy his thirst. As Stiles began to lift his arm, it was held back by the chains that he subconsciously could not feel. Derek had chained Stiles in an X shape; one limb to one bed post. And Stiles had forgotten this.

"Dang it." he muttered after shaking the chains as if they were going to break off like soggy cardboard.

"Derek." Stiles bellowed. After a minute or two, Stiles heard footsteps slamming up the stairs._ Angry footsteps. _

"Hm?" Derek peered his tired face around the door frame and gazed impassively at Stiles. And as if he just clicked that his boyfriend was chained to his bed, he grinned.

"How do you feel?" Derek said, walking over to the bed and resting beside him.

"Un-werewolfy." Stiles replied, shrugging. Derek chuckled and began running his fingers up Stiles' left arm; exploring his bicep and ending up at the beginning of his palm. Derek continued this torture and Stiles watched Derek's fingers glide up and down and up and down.

"Stop it." Stiles said, portraying a mock-angry face.

Once more, Derek chuckled and expressed mere delight in torturing Stiles in such a sexual way. Eventually, though, he did stop and returned to his normal, serious self.

"We can't risk letting you off the chains just because you feel...'un-werewolfy'." Derek muttered.

"But I have a way to test you, per say."

Stiles' eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Test?"

Derek grunted, got up and left the room.

"What the..." Stiles questioned to the empty room.

Suddenly, Stiles could smell his so called test. It edged closer and closer, followed by Derek's footsteps.

"Can you smell it?" Derek yelled from the top of the stairs.

"Yes!" Stiles yelled through gritted teeth. Stiles moved around as if in pain, but he wasn't. He felt hungry. Hungry for the meat that Derek was holding. Stiles smelt it's freshness, the overwhelming stench of sweet blood and vessels. He could taste it on his tongue. Derek walked in, fisting the meat in his hand. Derek was composed. He didn't want the meat, but Stiles did.

"Overcome it." Derek said to Stiles, staring him right in the eyes.

"Overcome it."

Stiles was about to change. He was nearing the brink. And then suddenly, he scrunched his eyes together and thought about his dad. _Dad._

"I don't want it!" Stiles cried, turning his face away from Derek.

"Get it away from me!" He yelled, scratching at the bedpost.

Derek threw the meat outside the door and ran to Stiles' aid. He clawed the chains off with his bare hands and cradled Stiles' now free and quivering body. Derek felt Stiles' fear of becoming a werewolf. The fear that Stiles shed was seeping into the air and Derek could not stand seeing Stiles like this.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Derek whispered, not releasing the sobbing Stiles.

"I knew you weren't ready. I just wanted you to be. I shouldn't've."

Stiles curled into Derek, and breathed in his warm and earthy scent. He smelt like home.


	14. Chapter 14 - White

Stiles woke again, on the edge of the bed this time, about to fall off. He steadied himself and sat up. It looked like mid evening out of the window, and Stiles suddenly felt overwhelmingly bored. He stood up, once again needing to steady himself. He rubbed his wrists, where faint red marks were from the chains.

The house wasn't empty, Stiles could feel Derek's presence throughout the house. He adventured around the house, looking for Derek. Kitchen, bathroom, living room. Nothing. And then Stiles saw him. Sitting outside in the grass behind the house, cross legged, and staring out into the nothingness. Stiles smiled. He looked so peaceful, not his usual and tense self. Stiles wondered out behind him and stopped.

"You know, I'm kinda sick of waking up alone." Stiles smiled.

Derek turned his neck and smiled back.

"I don't sleep much." Derek patted the ground next to him and beckoned Stiles over. Stiles willingly paced over and sat down next to him.

"You know, Derek. I was scared I wasn't going to find...this." Stiles murmured, rubbing sheets of grass between his fingers.

"This?"

"You know. It's just. I used to read these stupid books about love, you know, Nicholas Sparks shit. And I used to put the book down and say _well I'm never gonna get that _and feel sorry for myself. And then you came along in the most un-story-book-like fashion and look at me now."

Derek smiled and looked at Stiles. He just looked at him, he didn't blink or take his eyes away. Eventually, Derek scooted closer to Stiles and rested his arm around him, bringing Stiles' head to his chest.

"You know Stiles. You're too young to feel...Stiles?" Derek raised Stiles' head so that he could see his face. "You're awfully cold. You need food. Stupid me." He murmured.

_Tense again._

"I'm fine, Derek. Honestly, can you stop worrying." Stiles murmured, his head still perched in Derek's hands.

"But look at your eyes. They look so empty." Derek sighed, searching Stiles for the slightest hint of uncertainty.

"Derek-"

"I need to take you on your first hunt."

Stiles suddenly went quiet, and began to shake. It made him nervous, he was so placid, he couldn't think about killing something or _someone._

"Why are you shivering? Stiles, don't worry. Once you're out there, you'll be fine." Derek said, his eyebrows knitting together.

So this was it. Stiles was finally going to learn to hunt. He couldn't bare the thought of mauling someones face off, let alone a squirrels. Derek rose, leafs sticking to his jeans but Stiles reached up and gently plucked them off. Stiles did the same, standing bewildered.

"Do we need anything? Jackets? Harpoons?" Stiles laughed nervously.

"No. Once you're out there, it's you and only you. I will be merely an object. You know, I am quite curious though to see how you turn out in the scheme of things." Derek shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jackson was a shit person and he turned into the Kanima. And, well, you're a good person Stiles." Derek trailed off slightly.

Stiles could tell flirting wasn't Derek's thing, so he didn't push it any further.

* * *

They wondered out into the forest, hand in hand, talking about nothing. Stiles found it most peaceful, having endless chats about meaningless things.

Derek let go eventually and halted in an open area, deep in the thick forest.

"Now," Derek began stepping away from Stiles.

"Go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes, Stiles, a walk."

Stiles shrugged, raising an eyebrow, but unquestionably walking away from Derek, deeper into the forest.

Stiles didn't know it, but Derek was following him a little while back, trying not to be heard or seen by Stiles. Derek was most fascinated with what was about to happen.

Eventually, after only ten or so minutes, Stiles suddenly stopped. He raised his head and looked up through the trees. He could smell something around him. It was messing with his head. He walked a little further forward, but stopped again, before crouching and scratching his head. Stiles slumped onto the ground and put his head in his hands. But then, Stiles' head craned upwards, his eyes glistening in a deep blue tone. He began to breathe in the scent deeply; engulfing it, swallowing it, embracing it.

Derek was perched on a bank watching Stiles and how composed he was. Derek had also picked up the scent of a deer off in the distance.

Stiles rolled his neck. He felt good; too good. He jumped to his feet, and began to follow the scent, eyes still glistening. Derek followed instinctively.

Stiles was surprisingly fast, and even Derek was struggling to keep up with him. And just as he did catch up with him, and the deer, Derek saw Stiles stretch onto all fours and pounce on the deer. As he jumped, though, Stiles' skin shed off his body and was replace by a thick, white coat. His long, slender hands now paws. And his body now a magnificent wolf.

He had changed into the most loveliest of creatures. Derek had never seen such a transformation happen to a human being.

Stiles was beautiful.


End file.
